The 1979 Iranian revolution was a people’s revolution
hijacked. Whether Muslim, Jewish, socialist or atheist, all fought side-by-side
to end one tyrannical regime to only find themselves in the clutches of
another, even more ruthless and oppressive. But in a country like Iran,
literature, and particularly poetry, is like rain—it cannot be arrested. Vast
umbrellas of censorship can be raised, people can be forced underground and into
dungeons, but the water will eventually seep in, cleanse, nourish, and create a
new landscape. In Iran’s Green
Revolution we see signs of saplings that have broken through pavements and are
growing fast in the streets and squares. Anthologies such, Let Me Tell You Where I’ve been
(edited by Persis Karim), Strange Times My Dear (edited by Nahid
Mozaffari), The Forbidden: Poem From Iran and It’s Exiles (edited by
Sholeh Wolpé) and Tablet and Pen: Literary Landscapes From the Modern
Middle
East (edited by Reza Aslan) empower these saplings. This power does not
just come from their fellow Iranians, rather it comes from all human beings in
every corner of the world; it comes from readers like you who allow in your
lives the transformative power of literature.
In This Dead-End Road
They sniff your breath
lest you have said: I love you.
They sniff your heart--
(such strange times, my sweet)
and they flog love
at every checkpoint.
We must hide love in the backroom.
In the cold of this dead-end crooked road
they stoke their pyres
with our poems and songs.
Don’t risk thinking,
for these are strange times, my sweet.
The man who beats at the door
in the nadir of night,
has come to kill the lamp.
We must hide light in the backroom.
Those are butchers in passageways
with their chopping blocks
and bloodies cleavers.
(Such strange times, my sweet)
They hack off smiles from faces
and songs from mouths.
We must hide pleasure in the back room.
Canaries are barbequed
on flames of lilies and jasmines…
(such strange times, my sweet)
and the devil, drunk on victory,
feasts at the table set for our wake.
We must hide God in the back room.
(Poem by Ahmad Shamlou, Translated by Sholeh Wolpé)
From The Forbidden: Poems from Iran and It’s Exiles, (Michigan State University, 2012)
